Fix you
by lafantomette
Summary: Harvey and Donna. From 'The Other Time' to now. (A story in two parts. Expect the second part to have a really happy-Christmasy-ending)
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** Merry Christmas! I know this looks quite angsty but you know me, I can't do angst. The second chapter, that I will try to post later today or tomorrow or this week, is cute and cheerful and Christmasy. I'm sorry I had to cut this story in two chapters but I had to for correction reasons._

 _Best Holiday wishes to my beautiful DarveyArmy! This story is for you._

 _xox-Fantomette_

* * *

It was a lie.

It wasn't true that she expected him to show up that night.

She had bought a can of whipped cream just-in-case but the only thing she could do was wish he would show up.

She'd always said she could read people.

But there was something she couldn't quite read about this man, a layer she couldn't peeled.

She saw what he was showing to people across his path, including her when they first met: flirty, arrogant, charming. But she could feel his warmth and kindness underneath all those layers. He was a good man.

"I don't sleep with men I work with," she had repeated to Nadia.

"Well, that's a shame," had said the tall brunette. "God, he was hot! My best one this year, by far! Like in the movies, against the wall it was…"

"Okay, thanks, I get it!" Donna laughed making Nadia stop her praise.

Since she'd quit, that they no longer were working together, she could sleep with him. It made sense. She was a modern woman after all and she had stopped believing in fairy tales years ago. Why not have fun, take what she wanted and go on with her life?

* * *

It's true that his hands were warm and gentle, and he knew what to do to make her moan. He kissed her curves and licked the whipped cream off her body, making her shivers until a strong orgasm washed over her.

Her eyes were close. Fuck. Nadia was right. He was good. That was good.

It took a few minutes to regain composure, she opened her eyes and saw him getting dressed. He didn't notice her eyes on him.

Many words came to her mind to describe the man standing in front of her.

Sad.

Lonely.

Lost.

"Hey," she pulled a sheet over her naked body and sat on the edge of the bed. He immediately looked different, building the facade back up. He smiled cockily and winked at her.

"Something tells me you liked it?"

"Oh you were the lucky one, I mean, you got to touch me and…" she saw him put on his shoes. "Harvey, where the?..." She was confused. He was leaving.

"I delivered what was on that paper," he said. He stood near the bed as she looked at him in dismay. He was even more damaged than she had thought.

"But I didn't deliver anything…" She couldn't believe she was saying this but she couldn't believe he was leaving before having sex.

Well, she had sex.

He didn't.

He chuckled softly and to her surprise he kissed her forehead.

"You delivered something different. Thanks Donna. I'm glad we met. I hope you'll be happy at Skadden or wherever you end up at." The tone of his voice was so sincere it broke her.

He was leaving and something twisted inside her. She didn't know what it was.

 _(Years later she will know: their two battered hearts had found each other and didn't want to let go.)_

"At least drink a coffee with me," she offered. "I have vanilla…"

She wasn't one to usually ask a man to stay.

She usually was the one who played games: she likes the seduction, takes what she wants and needs.

But something was different about this one…

She liked to read people. Analyze, Fix.

Harvey Specter sure needed a lot of fixing.

But she saw his eyes smile when he drank that coffee.

They talked.

She only asked a few questions, like only her knew how, and he couldn't stop talking. He talked about his dad, his brother. She could feel he wasn't used to opening up, but she somehow knew how to make him talk.

 _(He handed her the map to his heart, showing her all the places she could hurt him the most.)_

He also asked questions.

She couldn't remember the last time a man asked her those kinds of questions: her family, why she ended up being a secretary, her dreams…

"I had to do it...my dad needed the money. He needed me."

Harvey furrowed his eyebrows. "He's a grown man, he doesn't need you."

"There's no shame in supporting the people you love."

"If I would be him, I'd be ashamed that my daughter had to give up her dreams because of me."

She narrowed her gaze at him. "I'm sure you've done things for your family."

"Well I broke them apart…"

He took his last gulp of coffee.

"I'm sure you didn't."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but I did. I'm not the man you think I am, Donna."

"You are saying my dad's problems are my fault?" she countered.

"That has nothing to do with it, you just tried to help him."

"And I'm sure that's what you did!"

He stood up, pushing his chair like he was ready to leave. "Well, you got me wrong. My mom was cheating on my dad for years. I told her she had to tell him but she didn't and I was the one who did. My mother left and my brother got stuck at home with a depressed dad! The coffee was good, thanks Donna."

She caught his hand making him stopped and she got up too.

"So it was her fault Harvey, not yours."

She could almost see something break inside him. He bit his lips and his eyes were sad.

"I know that feeling Harvey. Because I love my father I feel like everything is my fault even if it isn't. I try to be enough, but I'm not." She locked eyes with him and repeated. "I know."

It was like a wave engulfed them both. It came in a moment, his lips were on hers and his hands cupped her face. It wasn't expected. There wasn't a word exchanged. She had never felt anything like such and she knew by the way he looked at her that it was the same thing for him.

 _(The way he kissed her set a fire inside her.)_

* * *

 _(The way she kissed him set a fire inside him.)_

He had never felt anything like such and he knew by the way she looked at him that it was the same thing for her.

He had been a lost man without a heart and she had found it.

She had done it gently, without him barely noticing but in that moment, when he was naked on top of her, craving to be inside her like he'd never needed before, he could feel how strong the hold she had on his heart was.

It was a scary feeling, he never thought he could ever feel something like this. He needed her. In every sense of the way.

He wanted to stop because he couldn't be the man for her. He would hurt her because that's what he did 'hurt the people he loves'.

He couldn't be using the word LOVE. He shouldn't.

But his hands traced love on her delicate freckled skin, his lips showed love to her lips and his eyes screamed it.

And after, he didn't try to leave.

She started talking again and he realized that was the most soothing thing ever.

She made him talk.

She made him cry quiet tears.

It was dark in the room, he hoped she hadn't seen him cry. He wasn't sad, he just wasn't used to this. Peeling all the layers off, feeling the pain. Sharing the pain.

He could never be the man for her. She was an angel that had suffered enough and she deserved the best. He loved to brag but clearly he had bruises that take a lifetime to heal.

He wasn't the man who stayed.

And when he did, he always slept like he was ready to leave, on his side of the bed.

But that morning, he woke up feeling warm and confused, his face in her hair, and his hands around her waist. His leg was over hers.

Cuddling. His body hooked on hers like that's where it belonged.

He had a sinking feeling.

 _'I can't be that man for her…"_ He felt it rising inside him, the same feeling he had the night before when she told him about her dad's problems. Protectiveness.

He wants to protect her.

He needs to protect her from him.

He's not worthy. He'll never be. He's only troubles.

* * *

Then, a few days later, he told her:

"I don't want to lose you. Come work for me."

Because he tried to forget her but couldn't.

And he couldn't explain why or maybe he knew but didn't want to face it.

By keeping her close, he could at least protect her. Not only from him but from everyone.

He doesn't have anything else to offer.

 ** _For once, in some weird twisted way, he stayed._**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** So finally here is the second and last chapter of Fix You._

 _I like reading your little comments guys so if you read this fic please drop me a note, it always makes me happy._

* * *

He's older.

He understands now that in his life, only two women had a hold on his heart.

An outsider could say Scottie was one of them.

Of course he liked her. Maybe he even loved her, somehow. But he never gave his heart away to her. She could be there, or not, it didn't hurt. He sent her to London and was okay with it. No heartbreak.

The first who broke his heart was his mother.

By letting him be part of an awful secret, by being an instrument in hurting his dad.

Of course he loved his mom as much as a little boy could. His heart broke and he gave up on love. All kinds of love.

Then came Donna.

She patched his heart piece by piece, she was patient and kind.

For a long time, he thought she'd be better off without him. She seemed happy dating that guy, Mitchell. It is nothing new that thinking about her being with another man makes his heart twist. Or that when she breaks up with a boyfriend he gets ridiculously happy without exactly knowing how. Maybe because NO ONE is worthy of her.

Something happened that night years ago and he thought he could put it behind them.

But she was still holding his heart.

She had to, while she was working on patching it.

For a long time he tried to convince himself. He's not in love with Donna Paulsen.

Of course he loves her: he needs her. She makes everything in his life better.

She left him.

His heart broke.

It fucked him up because he tried to deny it but he knew deep down what it meant.

If his heart broke like it did when Donna left it was because…

He needs her because he loves her. He always did.

It took years.

She peeled all the layers off, one by one. The old ones. The new ones that life struggles can bring.

She said those words:

 _"I think you're worthy."_

She slowly made him believe he could be...

The Holidays are for believers. Not necessarily believers of God, but believers of something greater: love, family, caring…

Harvey stopped celebrating Christmas when he left home.

But this year, he feels happy, he finally wants to celebrate 'something'. Someone had and has faith in him.

She came back.

He is worthy.

They held hands and it made him smile even though the whole firm was crumbling down because he finally realized he had everything he ever needed there, at arm length.

What he wanted there in his hand.

 _Her hand_.

He is singing. And decorating his condo with Christmas lights. He burns cookies. He finally bakes decent gingerbread men. He decorates two gingerbread men, making one wear a suit and decorating the other into a woman with red hair and a dress that curves around her boobs and he laughs because he cannot believe he is doing this.

His heart used to be heavy and filled with pain.

Now it's light and filled with love.

Maybe it always was, he just hid it under the facade, under all the layers. For years he feared what he would find peeling off all the layers. But underneath the façade there wasn't only pain and hurt, but there was also love and joy.

He cares about Jessica, he hopes she finds happiness with Jeff and that her life becomes less stressful, making her smile more.

He cares about Mike even if he makes him pull his hair out.

He even cares about Louis: he thinks he jumped in way too fast with Tara and he hopes she won't break his heart.

He cares about Rachel: he thinks she's brilliant and he'd like for her to see it and stop crying so much about everything.

He really cares about Donna…

He stopped believing years ago.

And now he is believing again.

He proudly puts the little box with a golden bow on her desk before she even gets here. It is early but he woke up in a good mood: his condo smelled like gingerbread cookies and he dreamed about Donna eating cookies and him eating Donna.

He dreams about her a lot. He always did, how could he not after what they call _'the other time_ '? He used to believe that if he had enough sex with all those other women, it would erase all the memories.

It only made it worst and made the scars more apparent. It only made him missed her more.

He's not even ashamed to admit it to himself now.

He sits at his desk after pulling out a Christmas record out of his records collection and putting it on. The music is clear, this record hasn't been played that much. Christmas or happiness never was Harvey Specter thing.

He tries to focus on work because after all, he still has a job to do but he can't wait for her to arrive and see the gift.

When she finally arrives at her desk he watches her from across the glass windows. She is wearing a long sleeves green dress he's never seen before. The color is a nice contrast to her red hair and hugs her curves. He's glad she bought this dress, maybe it is some kind of indirect Christmas gift to him? He lets his eyes caress every curve of her body before he goes back to her eyes and he smiles when he sees her spot the little box with a bow on her desk. She takes it and gives a look in his direction, making his heart jump. She opens the gift and her expression goes from interrogative to surprised and she explodes in laughter.

She looks at him and smiles widely and he smiles back. She bites the arm of the little gingerbread man and he waits. She gives him a thumb up and then looks directly at him while licking the icing off the cookie's crotch.

He feels his cheeks burning.

It's just a cookie dammit!

He opens up a file on his desk and tries to read whatever it contains.

Not thinking about Donna.

Not thinking about Donna's licking that cookie.

Not thinking about Donna's lips…

Not thinking about her soft fingers on…

"Harvey?"

He jumps in his chair, he hadn't seen her coming in, which is stupid.

"I just wanted to say thanks for the cookies. I never pictured you as a pastry chef."

He crosses his legs, he has to. He hopes she won't noticed.

"Me neither. It's a new thing I'm trying," he says barely lifting his eyes from the papers in front of him.

She puts a hand on the papers on his desk, her hips now next to him. He watches her long fingers, pale soft skin, red painted nails. She's close and her perfume smells nicer than those gingerbread cookies.

"New thing? Like working with your hands?" she asks.

He swallows. He surely would like to put his hands to good use on her. He laughs and gives her a sidelong look.

"Nah. Being festive."

She understands right away. "Festive? I should have guess with that music. Does that mean… you're not working this year?"

Of course every year he gives Donna a few days off but she knows he usually just visit his brother and then spends the rest of his time at the office working. Harvey never takes any time off. When she isn't visiting her parents or spending time with the 'boyfriend-of-the-moment', Donna stops at the office and works with him for a few hours.

He never asked and she never offered, they just did (like most of their relationship).

But this year he feels like he should make an effort to live outside work.

She is almost sitting on his desk, hips resting next to his arm and one of her hand still on his desk, her fingers within reach of his. His hand looks big next to her tiny hand… He'd like to hold her hand again.

"No I'm not working. I'm..." He clears his throat. "I'm…taking a break. Alone. Marcus is taking the kids to Disney."

She can't hide her surprise. "So you are just going to stay home and relax?"

He nods and she smiles. For a moment, they stare at each other, until he starts to feel warm from embarrassment as he remembers Donna has a talent to know what someone's thinking (especially when it comes to him).

"I should work now," he says tapping his index on the papers on his desk. "Since I'm taking a few days off."

She removes her hand from the sheets of paper on his desk and he's sure her fingers lightly brushing his hand isn't an accident.

"But Harvey," she says before walking back to her desk, "you would get more work done if your page wouldn't be upside down."

* * *

She hears someone knocking on her door and she doesn't know for sure if it's him.

But she is wishing with all of her heart it is.

It's funny that, in her twenties, she stopped believing in fairy tales, and there she is, much older, much wiser, wishing everything that led to this moment had just been a (very complicated) fairy tale and that she would get her happy ending.

He isn't a Prince.

 _Or maybe he is?_

She understands it now, that everything he did, all the choices he made, were made to protect her. _'With you, it's different,'_ he confirmed but he couldn't give her more without hurting her, and it made her mad. It made her angry and impatient. She wanted to quit. She tried to quit.

It wasn't like she 'waited' for him like a damsel in distress, it wasn't that kind of fairy tale. She helped him while she went on living her life… She dated plenty. She even got engaged.

But there was always something missing.

She found it when they held hands.

She offered and he took it. Her hand was tiny in his, his hand was warm and it reminded her of that night.

The other time.

Happiness was within reach, finally.

 _In his hand._

She can't lie to him.

She opens the door and tells him right away, under one breath.

"I wasn't sure you would come. I was hoping you would…"

His lips are on hers before the door even closes behind him. There's a rhythm to their kisses, a song they spent more than a decade writing and the soft desire that always lingered between them quickly becomes a sharp pull. She wants to slow down, she wants to savor every second of it. But her hands are working on their own accord, already touching him in places that makes him moan her name. She hears herself mumbling 'bedroom' against his neck as he's removing her bra and runs his fingers down from her breasts to her torso, his hands then grabbing more firmly around her waist. He presses himself hard against her, mouth claiming her once again, and his need is making her giddy from anticipation, an ache rapidly growing inside her. They stumble to her bed and he slows down, taking his time to leave kisses on her, making love to every inch of her body and soul.

It happened all these years ago. So many years ago that she wondered if it really happened, if every detail was real or some were created by her mind playing sick games on her.

Now is even better.

She loves feeling his weight on top of her.

She loves the way he's kissing her.

She loves the way he enters her slowly, his eyes holding her gaze.

She loves that he's quiet and that she can hear his desire increase as his breathing quickens.

She loves feeling his muscles contract under her fingers that she's pressing into his back.

She loves him.

She loves all of him, the light and the shadow, everything, all the dark spaces in between. She always saw the light cracked through darkness.

She unapologetically arches her body to meet each and every thrust. His hands are still as warm and gentle as they were the first time but the feelings are stronger and the butterflies in her stomach bigger. They say love is friendship set on fire. In their case, they started a fire and then let the friendship developed into a slow-burning true love.

* * *

She wakes up feeling warm and complete. His face is in her hair, and his hands are around her waist. His leg is over hers.

 _His body hooked on hers because that's where it always belonged._

She feels his regular breaths in her neck accelerate and his fingers twitching on her waist. He's waking up, she thinks. Her hand absently reaches for his and she caresses the back of his hand for a moment. She hears him sighs heavily.

He rolls on his back. She feels cold right away.

"Donna listen…" He speaks in a sleepy voice and exhales sharply.

Her heart flinches.

He will say this is a mistake.

He will say he can't do this.

He will say…

"I know it seemed like I was trying to take it back…" he pulls himself on his side and looks at her. She's silent, trying to grasp fully what he's saying. Is he really bringing the _'I love you'_ back now? He takes one of her hand in his, slowly interlocking all his fingers. "But Donna I wasn't. I just…" he hesitates and she sees this little line deepening on his forehead. A tell he's searching for the right words and thinking hard.

"I just wanted to say it. I wasn't expecting anything in return. I didn't want to act on it. Or you to act on it. It was free. I just…"

He pauses. She always wanted him to talk but right now she's never been more scared or vulnerable, feeling all her buried emotions starting to bubble to the surface.

"Donna, I thought you knew." She can't respond, her throat is tight. It's complicated. She's trying to manage all what's coming to her mind mixed between all those feelings, some old some new.

"I'm sorry." He smiles shyly. "So yeah, I do."

"That evening on my couch, Harvey…" she manages at last. "I knew you love me it's just that I had stopped expecting one day you would say it."

He pulls her into his arms and kisses her hair.

"As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable."

She starts laughing against his chest.

"You aren't quoting Bruce Lee!"

"Oh that's from Bruce Lee?" he replies, faking ignorance.

"That's not from you. That's from Bruce Lee." She can't stop laughing. "Also, talk for yourself. I still haven't told you anything about love."

"C'mon. You once told me…" He starts to kiss her neck and she runs her fingers from his shoulder to his back.

"That was before!" She giggles. She's ticklish in that spot, just between her shoulder and neck. It seems he never forgot.

He stops kissing her but puts a hand under the sheets, fingers slowly tracing a path from her chest to her navel. "And when you left to work for Louis," he says in a low voice, "I remember clearly that you said…"

She makes a comical face. "But Harvey, I wanted to make you feel better!"

He tilts his head. "I guess I deserve that."

He's looking at her intensely but his smile is playful. That's a side of him that he always showed easily with her.

"I love you Harvey," she says easily without blinking. It's a fact.

She pushes her hands on his chest and moves to straddle him, her hands quickly finding their way into his as their gazes stay locked.

He softly strokes her face and looks at her with so much love as he whispers those three words she knows they're the truth.

It was all worth it.

 _(Of course you'll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.- Saint-Exupery)_

Now she knows: their two battered hearts had found each other and never let go.

* * *

The End


End file.
